


On and On

by PrimarchOmegon



Category: Warhammer - All Media Types, Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Amnesia, Dark, Depressing, Existential Crisis, I Tried, What A Twist!, and, hopeless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 07:08:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13071714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrimarchOmegon/pseuds/PrimarchOmegon
Summary: A fallen battle brother finds himself unable to leave the battlefield for an unknown reason and begins to search for his corpse and the memories that he lost, only to come across rather unusual company. However, some things are not always what they seem and my plot twists can probably be called from a mile away.Enjoy this unstoppable descend into one's torture that goes on and on and on...





	On and On

This city was dying.  
  
It was dying and its screams were formed by the agonized choir of its inhabitants as they burned. Everything would burn, this city, this land, this planet. All for the glory of something that was so unknown and constantly shifting, yet so terrifying in itself, so far away and yet so uncomfortably close to each and every one. A constant whisper in the dark, a temptation to resist, a decision to make… A thought that was always creeping back inside one’s brain. Something that refused to be forgotten.  
  
Had he been forgotten as well? Why didn’t they come back for him, why did they leave him in the ash and ruins of this dead city, why did he have to watch it burn down, buried beneath so many traitors he had killed. Why did they leave him, had he not fought at their side, had he not fought to bring glory to their legion once again? Had he not given all he could have? Even the scavenging cultists had left his corpse alone, he wasn’t worth their time. He was just another number, a life that did not count in the midst of all this… _chaos_. He knew that now. Nothing he could have done, nor had done would matter in the long run.  
He looked down on his body, realising that one of the rocks had smashed his skull in. So he hadn’t even died in combat, how distasteful. _Worthless_. Perhaps that was the reason no one had come to recover his gene-seed and give him the last rites. Perhaps it had been too embarrassing to recover his body. After all, what was even left of him? One of his hands was gone, his bones had been crushed and his body squished by the weight on top of it, his face… He couldn’t remember his face. When had he died to begin with? There was still pain inside him, it howled and it shrieked and it didn’t want to fade. Had this happened only seconds ago then?

Once again, he looked down on the mess under the rock. Was this his corpse to begin with? He wasn’t exactly sure. Though there was something fond about it that he remembered, something about the bright yellow colour scheme was familiar to him.  
“Hello there.” He turned, although it wouldn’t have mattered. After all, the young man that approached him was talking to his corpse, not the thing that stared down at it. The thing that had once inhabited this broken body.  
“Mind if I take that, friend?” The man reached under the rock, barely able to snatch some of the pockets from the belt underneath. It was strange how calm he was in the middle of all this death. His attire was in perfect condition and only slightly dirty, yet it wasn’t torn one bit. Not to mention that there was a faint, golden glow around him for some unknown reason. It felt calming to remain near him for a while.  
“Go ahead, what do I need this for anyway?”, he merely said while the pockets were searched with careful, tiny hands.  
“So polite, even in death.”, the man replied with a smile that stretched the scarred bit of his lower lip a little. Something about it was… off in a way.  
“What a gentle soul you are, who would have thought? I feel a little bad for doing this to you.” For a moment, he merely stared at the other, surprised by words spoken directly to him instead of the corpse.  
“You can see me…?”  
“Of course I can! It took me a whole while to find you too.”  
“I don’t know you, human.” A slender, elegant hand found its way into curly, brown hair and the man laughed. And it was a laugh so amused and honest that it startled him for a moment.  
  
It had been centuries since he had last heard something like this. At least that was what he could still remember. It was as if his memories slowly came back while he was talking to this person. This person that was so entirely unfamiliar to him, yet seemed to know much more about him than he did himself.  
“I should have expected that, I guess.”, was all he got for an answer, combined with a light shrug.  
“If you know me, then tell me who I am. Is this my body?” Once again, the man shrugged, though the smile was still present.  
“I can’t tell you that. What I can tell you is, however, that your soul is what I am currently having such a nice conversation with. And to think that especially your kind dismisses such spiritual things all together. You put so little trust in natural and organic things.”  
“The flesh is weak.”, he said, although he couldn’t remember why that had been such an automatic response. Nevertheless, it got a chuckle and a confirming nod out of the other man.  
  
“I kind of knew you’d say that. But I can assure you that the flesh is not as weak as you might think. And certainly much more fun to play around with than iron.” There was more he remembered now, the bitter taste of betrayal on his tongue, the agonizing pain he felt upon being eaten from the inside. Ash that had clogged his mouth and nose. Where had it been, around here? Somewhere close? Or rather…  
“Do you remember what if felt like to die?”, the man asked, biting the joint of his middle-finger absently. His green eyes were piercing, yet also fascinated. Welcoming, urging to share thoughts and feelings.  
“Do you remember how terrifying it was?”  
“I remember… the cold.”  
“The loneliness.”  
“The pain…” A pleased sigh ripped him out of his thoughts.  
“You’ve always been one of my favourites.”, the man said, seemingly getting bigger with each step he came closer.  
“There are only so many people that remember their feelings so intensely. Which is kind of ironic, considering your kind. And it tastes all the better.” Now that he actually tried to back off, he realised that he was stuck in place and since he had had no limbs to begin with, there was nothing much he could do against being grabbed by huge fingers. Upon touching him, their skin peeled off and revealed charcoal-black skin underneath, adorned with golden swirls and patterns that seemed to move on their own. Clothes disintegrated before they could even touch the ground, as if they were burned off of the body underneath, leaving only a silk, purple loincloth behind.  
  
“You know, I always dread this moment a little.”, the thing said, chuckling suggestively through pointy canines and shaking its horned head as if it was truly distraught over that fact.  
“But the fear they feel when I hold their little, shiny souls in my hand, these once so proud warriors of mankind, then I cannot help but be delighted. Once so sturdy, now so delicious, so concerned about what will happen to them. But you aren’t fed enough, there’s not enough anguish inside of you to make you ripe. ” It smiled brightly, although its eyes told an entire different story, and took a little bottle from the golden, heavily adorned circlet that held the loincloth where it was. Upon opening it, there was only nothingness inside. A void that inhabited hundreds of souls, yet none of them could ever hope to find each other. Blind, deaf, but screaming eternally.  
“You’ll go back into the bottle. Until I find another corpse’s bitter memories to fill you with.”

**Author's Note:**

> Suggestions, praise and comments are very welcome to this individual right here and it hereby expresses its desire for your opinion, dear reader!


End file.
